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Click hereWhat does it mean to be
a boy-crazy lesbian?
chasing after all the cute boys
on the playground,
with their musky, animal smells,
only to catch one,
his cock in my hand
like a trophy,
and wish, instead, for my finger
to be buried deep
in the folds of a cunt?
I am no man-hating dyke,
but I do love to hold
two breasts cupped in my hands,
and no man can offer me that.
"Don't you miss penetration?"
You mean that sweaty, writhing
cock against cervix,
semen exploding warm inside?
Yes.
But when the trade-off is my
mouth tasting honey and metal,
my hand flowering inside
your ripe cunt,
not knowing whether the silken
skin I touch is yours or my own,
and this bliss of resting in your arms,
I feel my sacrifice
must be like Briar Rabbit's
as she cunningly begged to be thrown
anywhere but the Briar Patch.
Briar Patch must be like having someone smothering your face between their thighs you can hardly take a breath but you would not back out for the life of you. The smell and the taste - what do you care if you can not take a breath!